Have we met?
by Ms-Ravenheart
Summary: Libby Shaw moves to Mystic Falls, a town she's never been to. So why does she recognise it?
1. Chapter 1

The new story! Completely different from how it was posted. Heck, even a different name! Same female character though. Kinda. Review!

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><p><em>I stood there by the door, numb.<em>

_At least, I saw myself at the door, but different. Instead of my wavy blonde hair there laid ebony curls, blue eyes instead of my cat like yellow. And don't get me started on the dress._

_"What?" I heard myself (well, her) say, so softly I could barely hear myself. I felt like I was glued to the spot outside my fathers, no, this girl's fathers study._

_"So as I was saying" I heard a voice roar, his voice giving a way he'd had a few to drink. "Jolly good idea of Miss Peirce's and yours Giuseppe, setting up that meeting in the woods. I thought my Victoire would never get married and, no offence, your boy either. Both too wild and brash for such a thing I thought. But, making them think it was their own idea…ingenious!"_

_Victoire. That's her name._

_"Exactly my thoughts Mathew." I heard the man I gather as Giuseppe say, pride evident in his voice "This marriage will finally bring an end to that though, I'm certain of it. I think, with a bit of marital living, they may actually break each other's spirits enough to give us eligible, and hopefully sensible enough heir to our estates."_

_"We could always step in if needed though." the girl's father mused "Pay for private schooling or a governess at an early age if things go array. I doubt at times my daughter owns any maternal instinct or self governance." _

_I felt anger rise in me. Who was he to judge that? Poor girl. To first find you've been set up, then your maternal instincts questioned? I'd have gone in and slapped his face!_

_"I view the same of my son. I'd rather my Stefan had caught by your daughter's attention, he'd have tamed her more efficiently I'm sure. But, he seems to want Miss Peirce. I do worry though," Mr Giuseppe drawled "That my Damon wants BOTH at times. But I'm certain that will fade. Or if not, he'll have enough sense to be discreet."_

_I watched as the girl/my lookalike finally found the power to move, walk slowly up the stairs to (what i guess was) her room and glare into the mirror at her reflection, who looked close to crying. I wanted to be able to hug her, tell her everything would be ok. But i knew i couldn't. But mostly? i wanted to punch this Damon bloke in the face. CHEATING on your fiancee? Pathetic._

_"Stop it" I told the girl, my heart breaking a little bit more for her after focusing on her tear stained face. "Your being weak, your not weak!"_

_But instead of my English accent, Victoire opened her mouth and she said it, a southern belle accent coming out._

_Freaky._

_I turned my back to the mirror, only to face a wedding dress that was hanging in her open wardrobe._

_I recognised it instantly._

_I hated that dress, but my mother said I had to wear it if I got married, that it was my mother's family tradition for the women of her line to wear the ugly, pompous thing._

_My mother's family origins came from a French aristocratic family that escaped the revolution. Her family had seen it coming and sent themselves and all their wealth to foreign lands. It's usually around that time in her family history rant I start day dreaming. I know it roughly ends on how her family would be so disappointed in my behaviour to whoever I was rude to._

_The dress was too fine, to elaborate. Totally inappropriate for m… A sudden bleeping sound echoed the room and, as usual, the room slowly started to melt away till I was left in complete darkness._

I woke with a start, my breathing laboured.

...

Fan-tucking-fastic, my first full nights sleep in Mystic Falls, and I get a nightmare...

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><p>Hope you enjoyed, reveiw.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Second chapter. Giving more back story to Libby now and how she's in Mystic Falls. xoxo

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><p>Sitting up fully, I looked around my loft room. It was beautiful to be fair, and lovely for short notice. Spacious and simply designed it had a small built in wardrobe with attached vanity in the corner, the room light and airy due to the giant windowskylight not far from my bed.

However… I sighed to myself.

Twenty two, Twenty two years old and my father still thinks that I love pink and similar pastel colours.

I could blame Lynn for this but in my heart I know I can't.

Reason? She's too bloody nice. She was patient and kind, the type of mother I wish my mother HAD been. She actually suggested that I moved here, much to my father's dismay.

He thinks I'm wasting my future.

My father, Dr Jonathan Everett, came back to his home town of Mystic Falls after he divorced my mother Estella (which pissed my mother off completely; he'd refused to take her when married). He ended his prolific career as a professor of philosophy and theology department with Oxford University and chose to guest lecture nearby his home town and write self help books.

I was eight years old at the time.

And my mother, being my mother, decided I was not allowed to visit him in America (and got the courts to agree) so he would fly out once a year, on my birthday, to see me and we'd spend the week together. In between he would send me letters, pictures and books and would tell me all about what he was doing. When I went to university he sent me a laptop, with pre-installed Skype, and we would spend as much time as he and I could give talking to each other. He encouraged me to aim high, and when I got my first class honours in biochemistry AND a job offer he was so proud he even flew out to watch me graduate. I was so happy; the man who inspired me and guided me throughout my life was going to be at the most important day of my life.

My mother on the other hand was in Paris, honeymooning with husband number four (modelling agent) and working the P.R for the new Jonny Depp movie. I'd be lying if I said I missed her presence there.

I remember meeting my stepmother Lynn for the first time that day, her brown hair just starting to grey and her hazel eyes nervous, contrasting her confident stance.

That's also the day I started to notice some things.

My father's hair had gone; he had less energy and dizzy most of the time, lost tonnes of weight even though Lynn insisted she fed him well. After badgering him for days to tell me what was going on, he finally broke down and told me that one fatal word every family member dreads to hear.

Cancer.

He didn't want me to worry, so he didn't tell me.

I couldn't believe it. He was sporty, didn't smoke and lived a healthy lifestyle. How could he, of all people, get cancer?

I even asked him if he was sure, if he'd got a second opinion. He just laughed and said he'd had a thorough prostate exam. He had it.

Not to worry though, he was having chemo, best doctors he could afford. Not to worry. It'll get better soon.

It didn't.

Lynn called me six months ago. Dad's condition had got worse. She wanted me not to worry, but would it possible for me to say in Mystic Falls for a while?

I renewed U.S passport within two days and two months later was on a one way flight to Virginia.

My mother was hysterical, claiming that he was faking it all just to take me away from her and how I'm a bad daughter for 'running off to America' and abandoning her. My elder sisters didn't really say much, but wished me luck and promised to visit their 'favourite step dad' (My father was her second husband) when they could and my boyfriend Alex… was no longer was my boyfriend having walked in on him fucking my best friend. Really shouldn't have given me a spare key.

New place, new start, no Estella.

Perfect.

But I honestly couldn't get my head around these dreams. My rational side was telling me it was my subconscious relaying my recent brake-up using my love of Jane Austen against me but another part of me felt more… awake after them, like I was remembering part of some complicated puzzle.

But I couldn't dwell on them anymore; I had bigger horrors to face.

Lynn had decided my voluntary nursing/hermitage with my father was 'not healthy' for a 'girl my age' (again, I AM TWENTY TWO!) and was forcing me to go to some silly founders day ball. Apparently as I was founding family blood I had to attend this first of the season shindig or face the wrath of the town, and Lynn was unfortunately NOT allowing me to face the wrath.

I was to buy a suitable dress, get some suitable shoes and think up some suitable conversations and antidotes.

No flashing my Industrial in my right ear or my other piercings, no showing off my tattoo on my left wrist and no risqué stories about uni life.

Terrific, I feel like I'm twelve again and attending one of my mothers evening do's. Only difference I can actually dress myself and not have to play pageant queen i.e. I can have a non scripted conversation without fear of being verbally abused by my mother.

My only joy is that my fathers going. Having been discharged as stable again we've been living in the library together when I haven't been looking for a job. My plan consists of hiding in the library with him.

"LIBBY! I'm getting' ready to go to the mall for two, you wanna lift?"

I sighed as I pulled myself out of bed and stumbled to the wardrobe.

"I'll be down in a minute!"

I looked into my reflection in the wardrobe door. It was tiredly smirking at me, a white varnished version of myself.

"Shut up." I said to myself and opened my wardrobe door, ready to start the day.

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><p>R&amp;R! xoxo<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Hey you lot! Been busy with other things but i hope you will forgive me, being the lovely lot you are *coughdon'thatemecough*

Next chapter is half written but needs (in the words of 'You've got mail')... Fine tuneing... xoxo

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><p>"Oh what fresh hell is this?"<p>

Before me lay rails and rails of dresses and suits. Office, Dinner, Cocktail, Ballroom, Bride, Bridesmaid and Prom dresses in all of the different shapes and styles you could choose from seemed to live in this shop, matching shoes and such scattered around the room like artwork in a gallery.

I felt like I had stepped into Barbie and co's wardrobe for the day.

I stood there feeling very out of place, in my grey open neck jumper, white vest, high waist jeans and converse whilst all the other women in here were in power suits of varying shades of pastel, cheer shorts and vests or in baby doll dresses.

"What about this one?" as Lynn (in her own lavender power suit) pulled out the fifth dress she thought would look 'cute' on me. It was pale pink and had butterflies on.

"No, I'll look twelve in it," just like the last four you picked out Lynn, my conscience said. "I need something more grown up, more my age."

My mind sighed. I love Lynn, I really do, but if she continued to try and dress me like a pre-teen… I would not be responsible for my actions.

"We aren't getting anywhere. You choose a dress; I'll be back in an hour." Without another word, Lynn marched off. Ouch, had I just unwittingly offended her? I hoped not, I do hate apologising.

I wandered aimlessly towards the back of the store, veering occasionally towards the red, purple, green, grey and black dresses I'd spot.

By the age of 15, I knew which colours I liked, what cuts suited me and which didn't. I suppose my mother did teach me one important life lesson; dress to impress at all social occasions, no matter what.

That was fine by me; I liked buying nice dresses, it was my thing.

My sister Cathie had handbags, Hannah had shoes. I had dresses and we'd help each other out when shopping.

But I always struggled with the category that was given to me by Lynn, who recited the invitation to me whilst we were in the car; Dress smart casual.

ARRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH! What does that even mean? It varied between hosts, which is why I always found it difficult because it was a fine line to tread, but usually if I knew the person who gave the invitation I could guess what I should wear.

Problem was I had never met Mrs Lockwood, so I had no idea, making it ten times more difficult.

Just as I was about to hit a mini-melt down, I saw it; the dress of my dreams.

It was a black sweetheart, halter neck corseted cocktail dress, a thin ribbon making up the halter neck. It was clinched at the waist with a black satin belt and was embellished with silver sequins in-between the corset panels, whilst the bottom half was made of thin soft black feathers and looked like it would just skim above my knees.

It was entirely inappropriate. I didn't know when I'd wear it, most certainly not to the founder's day ball… but I WANTED it! I had to have it. I was GOING to have it. I practically ran over and searched the rail for my size. Whats my US size again? UK 10, that makes me a…8! My heart almost exploded when I saw my size (the last one too!), and I hugged it to my frame. Mine! All mine!

"Errr, excuse me but… Am I interrupting something?"

I turned to see a young girl watching me with curiosity. She was quite pretty, blonde hair, blue eyes, and cute dimples. The epitome of girl next door, most likely a cheerleader, Couldn't be more that 16, but hey I'm not one to judge a girls age.

I gave her grin. Awkward. And somewhat embarrassing.

"Not really. Just found the dress of my dreams."

She narrowed her eyes slightly.

"I like dresses." I blurted into the silence that was now about as awkward as me, as I was still hugging the dress. Damn it where had my poise gone?

"Are you Dr Everett's daughter?"

Ok how did she know that? I know the town's small but I've barely left the house since i've been here. How the hell did she recognise me?

"Errrm…"

The girl suddenly blushed and started gabbling.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just your British and nobody's met her yet and she's not started school and I just assumed you were her and I mean you look like him. Oh! I'm not saying you look like a man, I just mean…"

Curse my accent!

"No, your right, I'm she." I said, ending her embarrassed rambling. Poor girl, she looked like she was going to turn into a strawberry "I'm Libby by the way."

"Caroline. I'm sorry; I don't normally introduce myself like that, it's just…"

I chuckled "Don't worry; I would have done the same thing at your age."

She looked at me funnily.

"No offence, but you look not much older than me."

She sounded offended, oh dear how old does she think I am?

"How old are you Caroline?"

"16." Oh good god, I look 16?

"… I'm 22." She had the decency to look a little ashamed, well, more shocked. Ok, starting to get awkward…

"Sooo…Caroline! Are you going to the founder's ball thingamy?"

Her face lit up, full of excitement. She must live for these things, she seems the type.

"Yes! It's like, the social advent of the season, well, for now… Omg are YOU going?"

"… Yes…"

"Then I'm soooo introducing you to people! Everyone's been DIEING to meet the new girl, I mean woman! Ohhh! Have you chosen your dress yet?"

She then looked at the dress that I was still hugging loosely, her eyes flashing quickly with a look of distaste.

I was right, utterly inappropriate.

"Erm, no actually. I have no idea what to wear for this thing. In fact," I held the dress up properly "I know this isn't suitable but I'm going to have to buy this anyway as I can't see anything else. That and its utterly adorable."

Wait; did I just use the word 'adorable' for an outfit? Oh god America is turning me into my mother! Or I turn into my mother when I'm shy. Either way, very bad thing. Next I'll be lecturing the girl on how she should eat only low carb and to only marry a platinum card holder as "you can tell they'll look after you, darling."

"I'll help! Sometimes you have to wade through the rubbish in this place to find something decent. However that dress; totally hot but soooo not a Lockwood dress." and with that, I was being dragged towards a rack of dresses, Caroline chattering in my ear, sometimes throwing me the odd dress (which was often, then picking out my arms and putting it back) or scaring the assistants by barking my dress size and things at them, who seemed scared of her.

I decided I liked this girl. She wasn't necessarily smart, was quietly self conscious and catty to all who questioned her (mainly the assistants) but she seemed to have some sort of heart and loyalty to her that was endearing to me.

And boy could she talk!

Fifteen dresses later, I ended up buying a three quarter lengthen sleeved, pale gold dress as it "totally went with my eyes" that was quite fitted, went to my knees and wasn't too shimmery. Portrait neckline with a small dip in the back showed off enough of my cleavage without being distasteful but showed a little flesh at the back, just missing the back of my bra by an inch. It was perfect, couldn't have chosen better myself and even better, I had shoes and a bag to go with it!

Note to self; take this girl shopping with me; Always.

After this Lynn came back, chatted to Caroline (apparently they were both part of some founding father thingy) and then, after Caroline and myself traded numbers, I was dragged out of the mall and manhandled into the car. Which would have been odd/funny to watch as Lynn is five foot and myself 5'8.

"I'm so glad you found someone to talk to, your father and I were getting worried."

She remarked, pulling onto the main road.

Surprisingly, so was I.

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><p>Tada! Comments are welcome as always! xoxo<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry guys! As a uni student i've been v busy recently with exams but hopefully i can pick both my stories up again (admittedly playing with the idea of re-vamping 'You took my heart' as it now tvd storyline clashes badly with my own) or at least update this one more. Hope you enjoy and remember comments = Love! xoxo (P.S, re-loaded this chapter for minor word edits, you probs won't even notice.)

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><p>Looking around the Lockwood manor, I was reminded of how I hate social events like these.<p>

Don't get me wrong, at first they seem the most 'Fun' things in the world. Dressing up, socialising and meeting new and interesting people, drink some champagne or cocktail from the open bar, eat something interesting from the buffet provided, maybe dance to the entertainment band then go home thinking that you can't wait to do all that again.

Here's what usually happens.

You spend hours getting ready/making sure you cover your 'unusual' piercings with your hair and your tattoos by jewellery/clothing, get hit on at the door by old pervy man, get given a cheap non alcoholic cider by the barman as they think your underage (actually have to get my i.d out on several occasions) get hit on by once rude barman, get perved on by younger lads as you try to find family, older men making inappropriate comments about you/your attire/your gender in front of family member whilst you want to punch them in the face, feet start to hurt, get pulled into a boring conversation with someone (usually by my mother) as the have money/power/good prospects, finally snap and are sarcastic, eating crap food and you go home wondering why you put in an effort every time.

So here I was, in my golden dress with white cardigan, half updo ala Taylor Swift listening to the not very interesting Carol Lockwood who talks a lot but, unlike Caroline, is boring and has poor conversation skills for a women married to a public figure. It was obvious that in her mind she talked, her admirers listen and that nobody can say anything, unless they were agreeing with her. Bar a brief introduction, a once over of my outfit, a catty remark how it might be "a bit old for a teenager" she hadn't said anything to me. Maybe it was because I corrected her with my actual age, then pointed out she looked 'tired'. Oh well.

"So I told the interior designer that royal ascot blue for the curtains would be much better then ducks shell and she started spouting all this nonsense about the period of MY OWN house…"

_Have to agree with the interior designer, duck shell blue or a sandy yellow colour would have gone better in this room and oh god where is Caroline!_

"… But LIBBY!" Mrs Lockwood drawled, knocking me out of my revere. "You've been so quiet. You've not told us what you DO! Do you have any qualifications, any hobbies at all?"

Ah, I see how it is. Because I'm blonde and I put my life on hold so quickly that makes me dumb/jobless/gold digger, and have no use to society. Underestimating me, she's trying to belittle me for not listening to her earlier thought I was weak.

Game on.

"Actually I'm an oxford graduate; a congratulatory first in bio-chemistry, specialising in the molecular and cellular activity." I spoke slowly, softly and calmly, like I was trained to. "I'm also well versed in literature, music and the arts. My hobbies include the violin, drumming, horse riding and fencing, Oh and I'm also teaching myself Quantum Mechanics at the moment. It's interesting how the mathematical formulations of quantum mechanics are so abstract, isn't it?"

I smirked and took a sip of champagne as my father and Mayor Lockwood (Richard) tried to control their laughter.

Did I mention that I liked Richard? A git to be sure, but I am ever so fond of men like him, they make good guy friends.

"I… well congratulations. Who knew we had a scholar in our midst." I sighed, couldn't she respond with anything better than that? Pity; I'd been expecting something with a bit more bite, for elders usually own a better repertoire of come-backs. I was hoping for a battle of wits.

Oh well, nothing for it but to leave, find Caroline and spend the rest of the evening chatting and belittling everyone else's outfits. And of course get a dance from dad.

"Thank you but there's no need to congratulate me." I replied "I believe anyone is capable of great achievements, as long as you apply yourself. If you don't, well, you just stay in the SAME PLACE don't you? It was charming to meet you Mrs Lockwood, but I feel it is time to find Miss Forbes. Good evening Mayor Lockwood, Father."

And with that I turned away, weaving my way through crowds quite successfully until… crash! I walked straight into someone's chest and almost fell over but they grabbed me by the waist. I couldn't help myself; I blushed and stared at my feet. I hate it when I do this, so… unlike me!

"Oh I'm so sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going."

The person, or should I say gentleman judging by his chest, said nothing… And still hadn't let go of me. Hmm. I decided to look him in the eye to frighten him, so I raised my eyes from my feet and had a look at my 'savior'.

And he was… familiar. It's odd; I knew I didn't know him (because TRUST ME, with a face like THAT I'd remember) but something about him comforted me. Maybe it was his green eyes or that he was a fellow blonde, but something about him centered me again, like I could speak to him and he wouldn't judge a bit. His eyes were hard to read though as he studied my face, it was like he recognized me too and was confused. Strange.

"Stefan I think she can stand by herself now." I looked to the side and saw a beautiful brunette in a pinky orange, gold and cream floral knee length strapless dress, who in return gave me smile, whilst I bit back a bittersweet feeling. Again, why was she familiar? The man in question awkwardly removed his arms but wait… Stefan? Where had I heard that name before?

"Thank you. And again I'm so sorry. I'm just looking for my friend and I must have tunnel vision-ed."

"Are you Libby? Dr Everett's daughter? Caroline's been raving about you."

What is it with youth of this town and their loathing of introductions? Well at least they can roughly point me in the direction of Caroline.

"Yes I'm Libby Shaw." Holding my hand out to shake hers, but she didn't raise her hand and instead looked at me funny.

Silence... Oh wait…

"My father and I don't share a last name." Ah, she now understood, but she's still not saying anything, in fact she looks like she's thinking.

"May I ask who you are?" God I hope that didn't come off rude. I hate jumping in like that but I hate pauses in conversations.

"I'm sorry." Said Stefan, stepping in. "My name is Stefan Salvatore and this is Elena Gilbert, pleasure to make your acquaintance." Who then shook my still outstretched hand. Finally! Someone who knew the rules of introduction! On another note he has a level handshake; sees me as an equal. I like him already.

"Pleasure to meet you Stefan and you too Elena."

"So, how do you know Caroline?" Elena blurted. Wow, this one has looks but no social grace it seems.

"I bumped into her at the mall a couple of days ago, she helped me pick out my dress for this evening."

"It's a nice dress." Silly boy! Never compliment another woman about her dress in front of the woman who's obviously your girlfriend. I looked to my side to assess the situation. Yup, Elena did not like that comment.

"Thank you, Caroline has quite the eye. But I love your dress Elena, truly beautiful."

That softened her; I got an actual smile this time.

"Thank you. So, did you bring anyone tonight?" Translation, do you have a date/are you a threat.

"Only my Dad and my step-mother, who seem enthralled in the conversation skills of Mrs Lockwood."

"Which means they can't escape." Elena quipped and I couldn't help but laugh.

"True, it took me being rude to escape her but I shall go back and steal a dance from my dad; he shall not escape his fatherly duties."

"Poor man." Stefan commented and I laughed again, causing all three of us to grin.

"Oy you," I added playfully "I'll have you know he enjoys them! But to the task at hand, have you seen Caroline? She's my unofficial chaperone this evening."

Stefan's pulled a face. "She's with my brother."

Ah, the date she told me about; Older hot guy with the recognisable name of Damon. Nearly dropped my phone when she told me, why am I feeling I know people when I don't?

"Right, I take it that as he's not a nice guy. Is it ok for Caroline to hang with him?"

"Oh no, he's ok but… he's a bit weird at times." Elena piped in.

"I disagree, she shouldn't be anywhere near him." Stefan replied stiffly.

Damn, talk about family feud, quite clear he doesn't trust his brother.

"There you are!" I heard the cry of Caroline, looking fabulous in a blue dress with white lace camisole and matching scarf, and I just managed to turn before I was hugged. "You look fab!"

I couldn't help but giggle; this girl was too sweet for words.

"Hey Care, you do too! and of course you'd say that, you helped choose the dress."

"But I didn't choose those shoes which, by the way, are totes amaze!" Eyeing my gold rope heels with red soles enviously, which were a gift from my mother for spreading a rumour that a friend and I were to marry.

One thing about my mother, she doesn't apologise, she buys you things and doesn't leave you alone till you tell people (her 'friends'/sisters/society) that you forgive her.

I couldn't stop the smile coming to my mouth. She'd picked up on my slang? I love her even more!

"Whatev's, blates just want try them on, coz their reem."

Caroline looked at me like I was possibly mad. As did Stefan and Elena.

"…reem?"

Crap, mustn't have gotten that far yet. Keep forgetting she's American.

"You know, like Fit."

Again, another blank look. This is getting awkward.

"…fit?"

"Physically attractive. You know, hot?"

"so… reem and fit mean the same thing?"

"Well not really, it's used to describe an incredibly sexy and physically talented person and someone or something "reem" is always envied and desired by others. But I suppose your right Care, probs should have just said fit."

"So, does that make me Reem?" spoke an unknown voice and, judging from Stefan's face, it must be his brother. Instinctively, I turned around and froze to the spot.

The man in front of me was probably the most handsome I'd ever seen. From his raven black hair, Adonis body, sinfully kissable lips and his Caribbean sea blue eyes he screamed male perfection but, whilst that comforting familiarity washed over me again, I noticed his puffed out chest, his mocking smirk and his 'You will fall for me' stare which was currently eying me up. Ergo, he was a shameless player who had no right dating my friend Caroline.

That and for some strange reason I felt a strong hatred for him and a need to punch him in the face.

"Reem would fit, as most Reem people are vain, presumptuous arses." I replied and added before I could stop myself "Caroline darling, why are you dating a narcissist?"

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><p>For those who want to know what LibbyVictore roughly looks like, there's a pic below. I was searching for a new haircut and I found her. Was a little freaked, near on identical to how I imagined her.

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